Original Bluebird
by Akirafanatic
Summary: So this is the original concept for Bluebird. It is NOTHING like the story I have published under that title. I only gave that other story the name Bluebird because I couldn't think of another one. Not because I based it off this idea.
1. Chapter 1

**For those who've read my _Bluebird_ story, this was actually the original concept for it. I wasn't sure I was ever going to write it, so I went ahead and called by other story Bluebird since I didn't know what else to call it. Expect angst, some gore, lots of bloodshed, and a general undercurrent of horror. Maybe some fluff in the later chapters.**

* * *

"What's your name?"

"K-Kudo Shin…Shinichi." He grit his teeth as another punch hit his gut and sent him flying into the back wall. Gasping for breath and clutching his stomach as he curled into a ball, the child felt tears spring to his eyes. He didn't want to give them the satisfaction of crying, but couldn't stop. The pain was horrible, and kept getting worse each day he resisted. He couldn't give in though. He saw what happened to the others who had, and he _refused_ to let it happen to himself. They wouldn't kill him – not yet. He was too valuable to kill. Even if they couldn't break him, they could ransom him back to his parents and cover their loss.

"What is your _name_?"

Eyes brimming with tears and hate shining in them, he glared at the man seated before him. "Kud-"He didn't even get to finish before a kick landed in his ribs, breaking a few, and leaving him coughing up blood.

The man who asked his name let out a disappointed sigh. Shinichi was barely able to see the older male's form as he rose and walked closer. He felt the blunt nails digging into his cheeks as a strong grip forced him up until his toes left the ground. "I'm disappointed in you bluebird. I'd truly hoped you'd learned your name by now." The child let out a strangled scream as he was tossed back to the ground. "I'm growing tired of your games. If you still haven't learned your name by tomorrow, I'll make sure you _never_ forget it."

The blue-eyed child felt his lips tremble. He was tired of the pain, and he was scared. He'd watched countless other children die since he'd arrived, and knew with every day that passed he could be next. Whether he broke for them or not, if they got tired of him or he was no longer useful to them, he would be killed without hesitation as an example for the others – do as you're told and maybe you won't be next.

It was honestly a surprise he'd lasted this long. He'd seen others killed after a week or refusing their new ' _name'_. Shinichi had been refusing for a little over three months. Valuable or not, it was odd they hadn't killed him already. The only other one he knew of who had resisted this long was nicknamed _'Blackbird'_. Shinichi didn't know his real name. There were cameras and microphones everywhere – even the slightest mention of your real name or previous life would guarantee you a beating or death. The first and last time he'd used another child's real name, it had been the kid who'd paid for it.

Shinichi had had a front row seat to their death.

Every night he woke up drenched in a cold sweat and crying from nightmares. Every day he felt himself crack a little bit more. He didn't know how much longer he could last.

The pain was bad, but the more he took the easier it got to ignore it. What he couldn't ignore were the screams of the other children as they begged for their lives, or the smell of the blood that coated the rest afterwards. The sight of flesh being torn into and the sound of bones being crushed. The splashes their bare feet made in the red liquid that seemed to cover everything. The way the blood would start out slick, then get tacky, and finally dry on their clothes and skin before being harshly scrubbed off when the _'clients_ ' came for a visit.

Every day another child was killed as an example.

Every day more children were brought in.

Every day another child was taken away.

Only those who their captors deemed the most valuable were constant. When they moved locations, those of value were the priority. Sometimes they were the only ones that made it.

"You're making it worse for yourself." Shinichi gazed up at the once beautiful face of _White Rabbit_. She'd come in just before Shinichi, with flawless pale skin, long silver hair, and big green eyes. She was a year older than he was. After three months with their captors, her eyes had dulled and started sinking into her head, dark bags were a constant, and her hair had lost its shine that had reminded Shinichi of the moon. She had aged years and they all knew she wouldn't last much longer. Their _'clients'_ had stopped asking for her, and she couldn't hold a meal down. If she didn't starve to death within the next day or two, she'd be killed as an example.

She was looking forward to it.

Death had become the only escape in sight, and for those who'd been around long enough, a blessed way to end their suffering. It terrified him to think he could wind up like that. It was the main reason he refused to give in. To be in so much pain you longed for death was something he never wanted to experience. He'd rather be beaten to the point he couldn't move every day than to know what that was like.

He gave the girl a shaky grin, black spots dotting his vision. He'd only make it worse if he gave in. That's when the true pain would start. He faded out of consciousness as she placed a kiss on his forehead and whispered, "I'm going to miss you bluebird."

* * *

Shinichi stared blankly in front of him, _White Rabbits_ blood splattered across his face and torso. He'd been through this so many times he no longer had bile rising in his throat as he tasted the coppery liquid on his tongue. He was numb to everything around him as the rest of the children were filed back into their cells. He didn't feel the hand grasping his hair and dragging him along, only barely registering the black strands that fell when he was all but thrown to the ground in front of the man from earlier.

He could see his mouth move, but couldn't hear anything that was said. Even so, he knew the question. It was the same one every time. _What is your name?_

His jaw moved up and down, but still no words filled his ears. A boot slammed down on his left arm and searing pain overpowered the numbness enough he could hear a scream. Wrong answer – they'd broken his arm this time. It had been his scream.

As his arm throbbed, the silence returned. He watched as the man's mouth moved again, longer this time, before he moved away. Shinichi didn't know what was happening. The person who'd broken his arm – or at least that's who he thought it was – hauled him to another corner of the room. He didn't know what was going on. He didn't know if he even cared. His arms were jerked up, no care for the fact it had just been broken, and pinned there.

Everything was spinning from the pain. His heart was beating too fast, his breathing was erratic, and he was on the verge of passing out once again.

And then everything was burning.

Shinichi didn't know what was causing the pain, but his entire front was in utter agony that had his trying to struggle free of the iron grip even as it made his broken arm worse. He was screaming – the sound being ripped from his throat – and thrashing as whatever was causing the pain dug deeper and deeper as though burrowing into his body. Even after the searing heat was gone the pain remained.

Tears were streaming down his face as he tried not to hyperventilate. Their might have been hands on him, moving him, but all Shinichi could feel was the pain. He'd never been in so much pain at once. Cold water rained down like bullets, clearing his head enough to feel vicelike fingers around his throat and warm breath on his ear. "Now," The voice was soft and the tone had the child shivering, "Maybe you'll remember your name."

The broken child let out a strangled sob as he was released, blacking out as he hit the ground.

* * *

When Shinichi recovered enough, he hobbled over to the cracked old computer screen they used as a mirror, _Blackbird_ as his crutch to keep him from toppling over. When he saw his reflection, it took a moment to realize what they had done to him. Across his chest, from one side to the other, was that damned name burned forever. _Bluebird_. His knees gave out and only _'Blackbird's'_ steady arms kept him from falling all the way.

He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out. _'Tou-san…Kaa-san…I wanna go home. Why didn't you come for me?'_ Feeling his eyes burn with tears, Shinichi turned and sobbed into the older boy's shirt. His captors were right – nobody was coming to save them. The last part of him that had held out the hope his parents would find him and gave him the strength to resist shattered.

After three months, Bluebird finally broke.

* * *

 **I love Shinichi, I swear.**

 **So some general notes on this chapter is that Shinichi's perception of how much time has passed isn't trustworthy. He has no way to measure how long it's been except for his best guess.**

 **No, I'm not going to give you the actual timeline.**

 **Blackbird is someone from DC, but I've fiddled with their age a bit to fit this story. White Rabbit is an OC. She's not a huge part of the story, but will be mentioned again a few times.**

 **And that's everything I'm going to tell you. The rest is up to your imagination~**

 **Let me know what you thought~**


	2. Chapter 2

**So, one thing I want to clear up - this isn't Shinichi as Conan. This is Shinichi as a child.**

* * *

Blackbird hated his captors. They didn't care about any of the kids they took. He'd been taken when he was ten – almost eleven. With no way to keep track of the time, there was no telling how long he'd been with them. All he knew was it had been too long. He'd resisted for as long as he could, and being older than most of the other children he'd been able to do so for longer than they could. But even he had his breaking point.

When he had, it was as though nothing else mattered. So long as he did what he was told and didn't get sick or cause trouble he'd stay alive. The longer he stayed alive, the more chance there was of one day seeing his family again. While that hope dwindled a little more each day, it never completely disappeared.

And then he'd met White Rabbit.

They didn't understand each other at first. She spoke a language he didn't know, and she didn't understand English or Japanese. The longer they were together, the more he began to pick up on what she was saying. She was beautiful and smart with a sense of humor that made him smile for the first time since he'd been brought in. She played the role of sister and mother to the younger children for a while, but he watched as she slowly lost her spark. He watched as she aged faster than she should have and her humor dried up.

When Bluebird came in, his stubbornness and the clear hope in his eyes that someone would come had been painful, but it had stalled the girl's worsening condition for a little while. Blackbird had been surprised at how long the younger child was able to hold out against their captors. He knew it wasn't because he was fearless – he heard the cries from the nightmares and caught the small flinches when someone would reach out to him – but because he truly believed there was someone coming for him.

As much as he wanted to know where the confidence came from, he knew better than to ask. He just wished he'd made Bluebird understand before he'd gotten the other child killed. That had been when he'd seen the blue-eyed child start to crack.

It had taken some of the spunk out of the younger male, and restarted White Rabbits downward spiral. Blackbird knew there was nothing that could be done when the girl started longing for the release of death. When she'd been killed, Blackbird had been relieved that she was no longer suffering. Unfortunately, her death had also deepened and spread the cracks in Bluebird's willpower.

When he'd been brought back with an arm oddly twisted and chest a horrifying mess that was almost too much to bear, Blackbird knew the youth had finally broken to their captors will. He'd stood with the younger boy as he finally understood the gravity of the situation. He didn't say a word as Bluebird broke down, shattering in a way Blackbird had never seen another break.

He supposed it was true – the stronger you were, the harder you broke.

Bluebird had never been the same after that. He was like a puppet, unable to do anything on his own unless ordered. He stopped speaking, and only slept when his body finally couldn't stay awake any longer. Blackbird did what he could for the boy he'd grown attached to, but wondered if maybe death wasn't a kinder solution for the suffering child.

When he was called less and less, Blackbird knew his time was running out. When he was no longer useful, they would kill him as they had White Rabbit. Bluebird would be on his own then. Without someone to watch over and care for him, the boy would die within a week. It was cruel of him then, to hope someone else would take his place and keep the child alive. He wanted someone to come for the boy he saw as his little brother. He wanted Bluebird to be free again, and regain that stubborn will and hopeful spark he'd clung to for so long.

Remembering White Rabbits final words, Blackbird leaned his forehead against the younger male's and repeated them. "I'm going to miss you Bluebird." _'I hope you find your freedom, and remember what it's like to live. Don't forget who you are.'_ "Goodbye Shinichi."

* * *

Blackbird ran. He could hear the shouts behind him, heavy footsteps pounding against the concrete. They were getting closer.

Gripping Bluebird tighter, he darted into a small alley and dove for the trash pile behind the dumpster, digging as far down as he could without releasing the boy clutched against his chest. There were curses at the entrance as the men tried and failed to locate them. Slamming one hand down over Bluebird's mouth to keep his breathing quiet and another of his own, he waited. His heart was pounding so loud he was terrified for a moment their pursuers could hear it. Muttering voices, shuffling steps, and the sound of garbage bags being tossed or kicked away. The closer they came, the harder his heart beat.

If they were found, they would be killed.

Blackbird had been prepared for that when he'd woken up. He'd been prepared to die as an example for the rest of the children. And then Bluebird had saved him.

Just moments before he'd been thrown into the machine that would tear him apart, Bluebird's small body had slammed against his own and sent him sprawling off to the side. The man who'd been about to lift him in had been so surprised he'd lurched forward to grab him and tripped over the blue-eyed child lying before him, sending him head first to his death.

There had been no sound besides the whirling of the machine and the grinding of bone. It only took Blackbird a moment to realize nobody was moving to grab him and used the shock and confusion to scoop up the other boy and make a break for the door.

His movement had caused the rest of the children to scatter and sent their captors into a hurried frenzy to try and regain control. Blackbird had made it outside and was running towards the tree line before two men burst out and followed.

They'd been playing hide-and-seek with the two men for the past two days, and by some miracle had managed to not get caught. It seemed their luck had finally run out. Just a few more bags and they'd be found. Pulling Bluebird even closer, he prayed for one more miracle. They finally had a chance at freedom again. He didn't want it to end like this. It _couldn't_ end like this. _'Please…'_

Two bags left and an angry voice Blackbird didn't recognize started yelling in an unfamiliar language. The bags above them stopped moving and footsteps came closer. Blackbird held his breath. He listened as their captor's voices responded. More yelling. More footsteps and voices joining in. Footsteps leaving, angry muttering and more shuffling as the bags above them increased in weight. Blackbird felt himself relax. He removed his hand from Bluebirds mouth, letting it hover a few inches above until he felt puffs of warm breath on his palm.

They stayed hidden under the trash pile until long after the voices went silent and the footsteps were gone. Only when Blackbird was sure they were alone did he carefully crawl out, pulling the younger boy with him.

Grasping the blue-eyed child's hand, he tugged him along towards the entrance. Peering out, he looked left and right down the deserted street to make sure they were alone. Once he was sure the coast was clear, he all but dragged the other boy in what he hoped was a direction far away from the people chasing them.

* * *

 **Here's the second chapter! Any guesses yet on who Blackbird is? He'll probably seem OOC, but then again I'm writing them as a child and going through a situation they were never in in the first place. I hope I can write them at least a little more in character later on, but for now it is what it is.**

 **Again, a lot of things are left vague on purpose and are up to your imagination. There are other things I will expand on or explain later on down the road, but for the most part you get to fill in the gaps with what makes sense to you. Also, is it clear what the 'machine' is? I didn't want to come out and say it because I wasn't sure if the children themselves would know the name for it, and this is from their POV.**

 **I think that's it for this chapter. Let me know what you thought!**


	3. Chapter 3

Blackbird felt immense relief when they finally made it somewhere he understood the language. He and Bluebird had been on the move since they'd lost the men following them – always at night and finding a place to hide during the day. Since they hadn't been able to communicate with anyone and had no money, they'd had to resort to stealing.

He took only what he and Bluebird needed – food, water, shoes, and some warmer clothes to put on if it got colder. Their bodies were frail from their time in captivity, so they'd had to keep stopping to rest before trudging on. Their pace was slow, and they were forced to avoid heavily populated areas in case the men were still looking for them.

Their supplies had been stolen by a small gang a few weeks into their journey which had caused them to steal more before taking off. Not wanting to chance another bad encounter, Blackbird had also taken two knives – a kitchen knife and a hunting knife – as well as a gun he'd stumbled upon by accident. Better safe than dead.

He'd given one of the knives to Bluebird to put in his bag and kept the other and the gun for himself. After making sure the young boy knew the knife was for defense and only to be used if someone was going to hurt him, they'd taken off once more.

And then the men chasing them had found them again.

Blackbird didn't know how they'd been found, but almost two months after escaping from them, the men had done it. He'd shoved Bluebird into a tiny space between two buildings so the men couldn't get to him, and scrambled to pull out the gun he'd stolen before they could grab him. He'd been too slow, and his bag with the gun had fallen from his hands as one of the men held him up by the back of his neck, choking him.

His hands scrambled to latch onto the large fingers, but the man was stronger than he was. Spots danced across his vision as he struggled to breathe. And just as he'd felt himself slipping into the darkness, he was dropped. He coughed and gasped, breathing in as much oxygen as he could, before raising his head to see what had happened.

Bluebird had saved him again.

The knife he'd given the younger boy was sticking out of one of the men's eyes, and the other was on the ground with his side bleeding. The blue-eyed teen had the gun in his hands, pointing it at the wounded man before pulling the trigger and killing him. Blackbird staggered to his feet and moved forward, putting his hand on Bluebird's wrist to stop him from firing another shot. Gently taking the gun from him, he dropped it to the ground and pulled the smaller boy into a hug. That was the second time Bluebird had saved his life, and now the child had blood on his hands because of it.

He'd have to live with the fact he'd killed two men because Blackbird wasn't strong enough. He'd promised Bluebird that he'd get stronger, and next time he'd be the protector. Next time, and every time after that, the blood would be on _his_ hands.

With the men who'd been chasing them dead, Blackbird hadn't worried about hiding as much and let them travel during the early morning and into the early afternoon rather than only at night. They still avoided densely populated places, but it was safer for them to travel during the day than it was at night, and some kind strangers even gave them food so they didn't have to steal any.

And now, after months of walking and hiding, they were somewhere with a language he could communicate in. Keeping tight hold of Bluebird's hand, they wandered around until they found someone wearing a police officer's uniform. Walking over, he grasped their sleeve with his free hand and asked, "Can you help us?"

* * *

Yuusaku collapsed in relief when he heard the news. After almost two years of nothing, they'd finally received a call that Shinichi, their baby boy, had been found. Yukiko broke down sobbing. When Shinichi had first been taken, they'd thought it was like all the previous kidnapping and attempted kidnappings – that the person who'd taken him wanted money. After a week of silence, they'd been terrified. If the kidnapper wasn't going to ransom him for money, it meant they didn't take him because of who his parents were.

After a month without news, the police suggested they go back to Japan and wait at home for any news. He and Yukiko had refused, wanting to be there the moment their son was found.

After two months past, the police weren't optimistic about the chances of finding him alive.

After three months past, he and Yukiko had finally gone back to Japan and the support of their friends.

When five months past, Shinichi's seventh birthday with it, the doubt that their son may be dead started nagging at the back of their minds.

When a year past and there was still no news, Yuusaku felt himself losing the last bit of hope he had.

When a year and a half passed, they finally started going back to their lives. The mystery writer published a book about a kidnapped child and dedicated it to his son.

And now after almost two years, they were told their son is alive and has been found with another child in Ukraine. Shinichi had been taken when they were vacationing in Switzerland. Yukiko had booked them the soonest flight to Europe she could even before Yuusaku had hung up the phone. They grabbed only what they needed before running out the door and yelling a quick, "They found Shinichi" to their neighbor when the old professor asked why they were in such a rush.

They weren't going to wait a second longer than they had to, to see their son again.

* * *

 **For those wondering how Blackbird knew the language for Ukraine, it's where I'm having White Rabbit be from. He doesn't know a lot, but knows enough to ask for help. And for those who are going to wonder about Shinichi being good with the knives and gun, he's not. He just shoved the knives in where he could reach. And for the gun, he would have kept firing if Blackbird hadn't stopped him. I know I didn't explain this, but as I said before, most of this is vague on purpose.**

 **Let me know what you thought! And Blackbird's identity will be revealed soon~**


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